


La Douleur Exquise

by indi_indecisive



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fingerfucking, Foreplay, M/M, Robot Sex, Wire Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 19:41:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indi_indecisive/pseuds/indi_indecisive
Summary: Sometimes two robots got to fuck, even if one hates the other.





	La Douleur Exquise

There was something hypnotic about the way his fellow omnic moved; he was a gracefulness on two legs, with a sharpened chin, and with an air of perilousness clung tight like the fit of his suit. Zenyatta would watch as Maximilien circled his way around guests with grace, composure more than a string of coding as he passed from patron to patron. Patience was more than a player tonight, the omnic monk would adjust the suit and tie of  adorned him; metal fingers tugged at the collar, how peculiar to wear more than his rags, and yet magnificent to have eyes fall prey to vanity. In truth, he was never one to head close the lessons taught by Mondatta, a rebel with cause.

He craved answers to questions long since asked, and if he were to find them in the omnic whose intentions were obscured like the thin, silky thread of spider’s silk in bright sun, then Zenyatta would walk without fear into his webbing.

Without fear, without thought to caution, Zenyatta takes the hand of his fellow omnic and allows himself to be lead away from the poker tables where, with no doubt in his processors, human and omnic alike would be losing their chits and cash well into the night. “I trust you.” His voice is soft, barely above the own running of his fans, optics flickering to the sharp-edged omnic who takes him through halls, clearly in search of privacy.

“Even for you, monk, that is a mistake.” Maximilien does not snap back at him, he seems more tired; he tugs Zenyatta’s arm, fingers reluctant to interlock with the speak for peace monk, but they do so anyway in an attempt to have him walking faster.

“Without mistakes we cannot learn.”

“There is nothing to learn if your mistake ends in death.”

“I know it will not.” Zenyatta responds calmly, almost teasingly as Maximilien pushed open a door, revealing a room whose furniture harbored no thin or thickened layer of dust but whose decor suggested hadn’t been used in some time. Optics flicker, taking a moment to adjust to the lacking light, the faint glow or red and blue being their only source of it, and Maximilien made no move to turn the lights on. They were omnics, not humans, and had better eyesight. 

Instead, Maximilien urges Zenyatta forward, giving a push to the bed that looked more comfortably than he would find it to be, but lacking bones and sensitives nerves, bedding comfort mattered little. “Undress.”

“Please and thank you have quit the interest tendency to go rather long ways, Maximilien.” But Zenyatta did not protest, fingers making quick work to free his metal frame of the suit and tie, borrowed from his student Genji, he would take care to fold the jacket and pants to avoid wrinkles. It would be in poor taste to return the piece damaged, and it would be a shame to explain to Genji exactly why and how it became so. 

Maximilien groaned, synthetic voice wavering as fingers removed his own suit and tie with as much care as Zenyatta gave his own, optics flickering to study Zenyatta’s movements. Once his pants were folded and sat perfectly atop his folded shirt and tie, the french omnic let his fingers slip down, releasing the clasps of his modesty plate to show his cock. Zenyatta’s gaze wandered, studying the other’s attachment with a mild appreciation, while larger than he had seen on other omnics, Maximilien’s cock seemed rather plane for an omnic whose air of class infected everything he did; as if he were king Midas, cursed with a golden touch, doomed. 

“Impressive, any features?” He asked, a faint buzz of curiosity in his voice.

“You won’t need my features.”

“A bold statement,” Zenyatta chuckled softly, fingers releasing his own modesty plate, folds already wet with lubricant, his arousal more evident. “There is nothing quite comparable to a good, thick, vibrating cock inside of me.”

Maximilien settled a hand in the middle of Zenyatta’s chest, urging the other to lie down, his systems humming softly and pleasantly that Zenyatta felt a calm wash over him; if only Maximilien could feel such a calm, to relish in the satisfaction before they had even fucked, Zenyatta rested against the bed and supported himself with his elbows. Head tilted to the side, he watched as Maximilien settled between his legs, Zenyatta spreading obscenely  to give the other a better view of his deliciously wet cunt. 

“Ah, I never would have imagined a monk would be so … eager.” Maximilien trailed a single digit between the other’s folds. His body hummed with a tender affection, optics flickering up to gauge the monk’s reaction as Maximilien pressed two fingers inside of him, eagerly pressing the two deep, scissoring them out before adding a third finger. Zenyatta squirmed near helpless, Maximilien worked effortlessly to fondle the sensitive wires and nodes, slowly beginning to pump his fingers in and out. Zenyatta lifted his hips up with eagerness, urging Maximilien to work him faster, a low crackling whine ripping from his synthetic voice, “Ahah-- forgo your patient foreplay and fuck me.” 

Maximilien, in spite of a command, despite his own hatred, would give Zenyatta what he wanted.

 

Zenyatta could only think that Maximilien had chosen a good cock as the other omnic rammed into his synthetic pussy, the slick squelch of his own lubricant alluring, his servos shivering in delight. Zenyatta curled his fingers around Maximilien’s bicep, arching his back, voice box glitching at the drag of Maximilien’s cock against sensitive and lube slicked nodes and silicone wrapped wires. Zenyatta spread his legs wide, an eagerness to greet each thrust as the other omnic gripped the framing of his hips for better leverage, cock filling him at a new angle.

Zenyatta’s processors and servos glitched, everything became akin to white hot noise; the only sound he could comprehend was the faint clink of metal on metal underneath the slick squelch of his cunt being fucked, wet enough that cooling lubricant dribbled down his thighs. 

Maximilien fucked him ruthlessly, fingers threatened to dent Zenyatta’s hips, the red lights of his forehead flickered wildly in response, “Never would have guessed a Shambali monk enjoyed being fucked senseless. Will my cock be helping you to reach enlightenment?” Maximilien mused, filling Zenyatta’s wet cunt completely with his cock, stilling his hips; Zenyatta squirmed, rolling his hips forward, synthetic voice breathless and crackling with the thick cock pressing against the sensitive silicone wrapped wires and nodes. “Funny-- your cock is not in the running to godliness, but it will suffice to-- aHA.” Maximilien thrusted had, the wet squelch of Zenyatta’s pussy sending an automatic, pulsating, pleased sensation along Maximilien’s spinal column. 

Red optics examined the Shambali monk beneath him; the fighter, the taker, the breaker and builder of both peace and insecurities. Zenyatta would make it his life duty to rip apart all that was Maximilien, building him back together with soft words of encouragement, stripping him free of the anger and resentment he carried. How was Maximilien supposed to know that process began with fucking his wet cunt? 

Zenyatta urgently rolled his hips, desperate for Maximilien to continue fucking him, “The longer you stall--”

“Aren’t you the one who always speaks of having patience, monk?” Maximilien snapped, hips thrusting forward to keep Zenyatta from speaking, beginning to thrust at a steady and slow pace inside of the other. “Would you prefer I fuck you quick, leave you wanting more, or do you want me to fuck you so good that you reset?” He snapped his hips forward to emphasis his point, Zenyatta squirming beneath him, synthetic voice all too breathy and crackling.

“Yes!” Zenyatta rocked back on his cock, optics flickering off to redirect power, giving himself more pleasure with each slow roll of Maximilien’s hips. His systems felt that they were on fire, overheating despite the slick cooling lubricant soaking the sheets beneath them, his fans whirring erratically in an attempt to cool the sex heated systems. “Iris! Yes!”

The sheets were soaked wet with sweet scented lubricant, which would taste faintly of mint if either omnic’s synthetic tongue possessed taste receptors, and if either omnic had thought to dip their fingers between throbbing silicone folds to appear more tantalizing, the two omnics fully embraced each other; mechanical limbs became a beautiful tangle of metal work, systems integrated, the red and blue lights which adored their foreheads pulsated erratically, becoming a beautiful shade of purple as electronic pulses forced through their wiring, overloading smaller systems in favor of delivering pleasure everywhere, reducing them to nothing but sex blown robots. Maximilien was the first to give, the joints of his arms shaking until he collapsed on top of Zenyatta, the length of his cock softly vibrating between the slick synthetic folds of his fellow as they rode out a integrated orgasm together, being integrated was too unique, too crushing for the french robot to handle post exhaustion, even the beautiful shocking afterglow of sex did not drive his mind away from the fact he had been too personal with the monk.

Zenyatta would know too much, just as he knew the too much about Zenyatta, although Maximilien would find himself doubting that there would ever be a too much for Zenyatta; the monk was an open book, one who accepted, who loved, who wanted, who was wise beyond his years just as he was angry. 

Maximilien’s processors stuttered, leaving him confused for the moment, reaching down between their frame-worked bodies to remove his cock and slip it back into where a modesty plate, haphazardly tossed aside, could cover his cock. A hand pressed soft the side of his neck, pulling him out of his thoughts, the lights of his forehead returning to their threatening red.

“...Zenyatta?”

“I hope you find the peace within you, Maximilien.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work be sure to support me by [donating](https://www.paypal.me/EdelVermell)! High donations even get the opportunity to receive fanfic from me.


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